Career Decisions, Part 2

The six weeks or so that I had between my leaving school and going away to join the army passed very slowly, it was one of the better summers in the UK that year, plenty of warm sunny days. I had been doing some jobs for a little money since I was aged 14, paper delivery rounds both in the morning and after school, I also worked some evenings in a skittle alley. This was not an automated multi lane complex you see everywhere nowadays, this was a single lane in a pub and my job was to replace the pins after they had fallen and send the ball back down to the bowlers end. An important lesson I learnt early on was to keep one eye on the person next to bowl, as the alcohol level rose their ability to bowl got worse and on occasion the ball would be sent on its way before I was fully set up and out of harm's way. You only needed to be in the wrong place once to not get caught there again. Another way to pass the summer and earn a little extra money two of us did some window cleaning, as I said earlier it was a good summer that year, if the weather had been lousy that job would have been too.

At last the days ticked slowly away until it was time to leave home, it was not too far less than two hours and just two trains would see me arrive in Aldershot, which was described as the home of the British Army. On the train and at the station there were many young recruits travelling towards their new homes, all the training bases had their intake of scores of boys to be turned into efficient soldiers arrive on this day.

I arrived at the station and was put into a group of similar aged and likewise nervous, not knowing what we had let ourselves in for. We were put onto a bus and sent off to the barracks, after much being herded from one place to another we were eventually given a place to call home, if a corner of a room with a bed and a locker could be called home. The biggest shock was the first thing the next morning, and I mean first thing, 6am and reveille.

The first few days were a chaotic mix of not knowing where anything was, being marched or herded around in big groups, none of us could march correctly at that point all that would come in time, as we collected our ever growing mountain of equipment you couldn't help but notice the occasional departing soul that had quit, one person I remember got off the train arrived at the barracks took one look and said he wanted to go home. In those first few weeks if you showed a strong desire to leave you were able to leave very quickly, after the initial six weeks it took a little longer to quit.

After about ten days of training we were given our first real test, we were taken down to Dartmoor, an inhospitable place at the best of times, in the week we were there it never seemed to stop raining, was cold and miserable. Again many more found this to be a breaking point. During my two years of training there were moments when I could have joined that list of those that had quit, not many if they are honest about it would say they didn't consider going at some point. We had weekly tests, and if you were behind in any of these you had to show an aptitude to learn this skill or again it was off home. My biggest problem was in the gym, I was always good at sports, but I had one hurdle, or vaulting box that was forever in my way. At that age I was quite small and it took me forever to successfully get over that box in the style that was necessary, I don't think I have ever jumped another one again. I knew I would never be a gymnast.

Eventually we came to the end of the two years; I successfully completed my training and went on to serve my country for a further nine years around the world. Of the 180 recruits that joined up at the same time as me, only 90 of us completed the full course, it was an experience that I enjoyed mostly and it taught me many of the qualities that I hold dearly today, a truly life changing decision to the beginning of my working career.